Your a Wizard Dean
by loverofharrypotter
Summary: Dean Winchester's 11th Birthday is here, his plan's to try and ignore it are wrecked when a crazy woman arrives with a letter telling him that he's a wizard.


Alright so I'm not sure if this will be a one-shot or maybe a short story let me know if I should continue, but if I do Dean would be born the same year as Harry.

Dean Winchester who was ten years, eleven months, and twenty nine days old, was turning eleven years old at midnight. He was hoping that his dad would return home from his hunt tomorrow but he knew that was a long shot. Not that he cared or anything, birthdays were lame, and he didn't care. Really he didn't, sure it would be nice if his dad showed up, but it didn't matter. He looked down at the bundle of warmth that was currently curled up at his side. His brother Sam, Sammy, little geek.

Reluctantly he shook him, and when nothing happened he shook harder and whisper shouted," Sam get up"

"Dean…...what?" mumbled Sam sleepily.

"It's almost midnight, lets move you to the bed."

"Oh ok, but it's almost your birth-," Sam started before Dean cut him off.

"Bedtime!" Dean said loudly.

As quickly and gently as possible Dean pulled his six year old brother towards the lumpy motel bed. Lucky for Dean who sadly was still on the short end of the height spectrum Sam was tiny. Dean closed his eyes and sighed he didn't want Sam mentioning the dreaded B word. If his dad couldn't remember or bother to call then obviously birthdays weren't important. He knew this because the past three birthday's had been slept through or his dad had been hunting. The Winchesters didn't celebrate John's birthday and if John didn't care about birthdays then neither did Dean. Secretly Dean thought his dad was the coolest guy around. He heard all the other boys brag about their dads jobs, Dean knew dad was ten times cooler than theirs.

"Alright night Sammy." whispered Dean.

"Night Deanie, happy birthday," mumbled Sam as he drifted back to sleep.

"Yeah, " Dean looked over at the digital clock on the night table 11:58, "happy birthday."

Even though Dean acted like his dad leaving them unattended in sketchy motel rooms with pervy managers who leered at him like he was a juicy cheeseburger wasn't a big deal, deep down it hurt. And, although he was a big boy, his dad's right hand man he sometimes wanted to be looked after and wanted his dad to care how late he stayed up, or to tell him no more sugar. But, it didn't hurt he was Winchester he wasn't allowed to snivel and cry like a baby. He looked over at the night stand 11:59. Yawning he crawled into bed, and definitely not snuggling Sammy moved closer to Sammy in case of, well just in case. 12:00 o'clock, midnight, he was officially eleven years old. Closing his eyes he drifted off to dreamland, to a world where his dad was playing football and teaching him how throw a baseball instead of the proper technique in holding a sawed off shotgun.

Dean woke up to heavy breathing and hot morning assaulting his senses. Slowly opening his eyes he saw his brother just inches from his face.

As soon as Sam saw his brother make eye contact with him, his face broke into a large grin, and he began to sing loudly and off key, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTH-,"

Wincing Dean cut him off, as Sam was still close to his face, "Ummm thanks dude, lets go get something for breakfast."

"Lucky Charms for me, unless theres nones left, it your birthday, rambled Sam hurrying off towards the small kitchen.

Dean smiled, god he loved the kid but he always seemed to have an unlimited energy. Sadly it was Saturday and even though Dean hated school with a passion today he wanted to avoid the question "where's daddy Dean its your birthday". He couldn't handle it, he would avoid the question at all costs. Heading over to the tiny and miserable excuse for a kitchen he made Sam and himself breakfast. Sam handed Dean a red card, and ducked his head. Nervously smiling beneath his long bangs he explained how in school the had to make cards telling people how much the loved them. He said because he didn't have any money that this was he present.

Looking at the childish handwriting on the front reading Happy Birthday Deanie, he grinned. The inside had a black car with three stick figures on the inside.

"Thanks Sammy!" Dean grinned, the card made him happy, he couldn't understand why.

"You like it Dean? I spelled it all by myself and drewed the picture all by myself" squealed Sam.

"Yeah it's great, and Sammy it's drew not drewed," laughed Dean.

Sam furrowed his forehead, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah I'm positive"

"Oh." thinking to himself Sam grinned suddenly, "I should put drewed in the dictionary!'

"Yeah you do that geek"

A loud pop sounded and Dean jumped up and grabbed Sam by the arm, stepping in front of his little brother.

"Sammy go hide underneath the bed" Dean urgently whispered.

"Ok Deanie, but what's going on?" Sam whimpered.

"Just go"

As Sam scampered across the small motel room, a knock sounded at the door. Dean grabbed the shotgun from the ground beside the door. Quietly tip-toeing to the window a cross looking women with pinched lips stood in front of the motel door. She was dressed in a weird looking dress/bathrobe. Her hair tied back in a tight bun, in was so tight the it looked painful. Dean wondered if maybe she was going to a renaissance fair, maybe she needed directions. She was in her upper 60s, and appeared to be no threat.

"Harmless, maybe but with Winchester luck she's probably a fire breathing, ninja," muttered

Dean.

She looked over to the left, catching sight of Dean. Swearing softly Dean ducked away, sighing he headed over to the door. Unlocking the bolted door, he braced himself for the old lady.

"Hello mam." he said politely

"Hello, I am Professor Mcgonagall of Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry."

At the word witchcraft Dean lifted up the shotgun, and just as he leveled it at her chest, a familiar rumble rolled up.


End file.
